


Emotions

by thelemon_isinplay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bar, M/M, Smut, happy endings all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelemon_isinplay/pseuds/thelemon_isinplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean tries to tell Cas about his true feelings, the road gets a bit bumpy. With a little divine intervention (Sam being painfully obvious) we get to the whole point of the smut tag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotions

The Winchesters sat at a shabby bar, one taking big slugs from his drink angrily, the other nursing his beer. Dean tried to let the alcohol take control, just so he didn't have to think about what had happened, but all the drink did was loosen his tongue. “What happened, Dean?” Sam asked gently after he watched his brother down his eighth pint.

“What do you think happened? Exactly what I thought,” Dean replied scornfully. “’Don’t worry, Dean, everything’ll be okay, Dean, tell him how you feel, Dean.’ Why do I ever listen to you?”

Sam sighed. “Start from the beginning.” he urged.

“Fine. I’ll tell you what came from your idiotic idea.”

*

-Two hours earlier, at the motel-

“Don’t worry, Dean. Everything will be okay. Just tell Cas how you feel,” Sam said.

“I don’t know, man. What if he punches me? Or worse, what if he stabs me with that archangel blade? Bad idea,” Dean rasped. He had tried drinking to calm his nerves, but the strong alcohol simply burned like fire in his throat.

“You’ll see. I know more than I care to tell.” Sam said cryptically. He then walked out of the small motel room to ‘get some air,’ leaving his brother to call the angel.

Dean waited a minute or two, then said with a sigh, “Castiel. I’ve, uh, got something… something on my mind. I gotta talk to you, Cas. Amen, I guess,” Dean muttered his prayer this time, eyes pointed skyward and hands clasped at his chest. He looked as if he was pleading the sagging ceiling not to cave in on him.

Moments later, the flutter of angel wings could be heard. Dean spun around, meeting Castiel’s shockingly blue eyes. “Hello, Dean,” the angel said quietly.

“Cas,” the hunter breathed. His hand flew up to the amulet his brother had given him for Christmas when they were kids. He remembered what Sam had said – Just tell Cas how you feel.

“You needed me?” Castiel asked, cocking his head to one side and squinting.

“You have no idea,” Dean said. He inhaled sharply. “I guess the best way to say this is…” his voice trailed off. Oh, screw it, his brain decided unanimously. He shoved Castiel onto the dirty motel wall, crashing their lips together.

The angel gasped, obviously unaccustomed to this sort of use of his vessel, and Dean took that opportunity to explore his mouth. He tasted of bitter chocolate and sugar, though Dean couldn’t figure out why. The hunter’s hands ran up and down Castiel’s back, holding him ever closer, pulling the angel next to him as much as he could. Castiel let out a muffled protest, at which point Dean pulled rather unwillingly away.

Dean let the distance between them and his shortness of breath among other things say everything better than he ever could. “Dean…” the angel began.

Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes; the crystalline blue irises and dilated pupils searching his own – but nothing could hide the look of betrayal.

The hunter stepped back, stuttering, “I-I’m sorry! Jeez, Cas, I didn’t mean to- well, I did, but- um, that wasn’t-”

“Stop. Please.” He looked at Dean’s face, a jumbled mess of confusion, pain, sadness, and frustration. The angel needed some space. The last thing Dean heard before he fell to his knees, head in hands, was the soft flutter of angel wings as Castiel left him alone in the small, dirty motel room.

*

“After that, I came here. You were sitting here. I got a drink,” Dean finished.

“And when the bartender chick tried to flirt with you, you got another drink just to throw in her face. I know, I was here,” Sam said.

“So, because of your dumbass idea, an angel of the Lord hates my guts. Great,” Dean moped.

"I don’t get it. What went wrong?” Sam muttered.

A woman came up to the bar, basically shoving her tits onto Dean with the usual, ‘Hey, handsome,’ before the angry hunter stood.

“I need some air,” he growled, then he glugged down his tenth pint before storming out of the sleazy bar.

The Impala was back at the motel, so Dean started on his way, all the while muttering, “I screwed up. Urgh, why do I listen to Sammy?”

*

Dean lie on the couch in the shabby motel thinking. He stared at the ceiling, one messy glob that looked like dried blood catching most of his attention. His suicidal thoughts were interrupted by the soft flutter of angel wings. “Dean,” Castiel said quietly.

Dean bolted upright on the couch at the sight of his angel, coat cleaner than usual, hair combed for once, and face shaved clean of stubble. “Cas, I- um, I’m so-” he stammered.

“Say no more. I apologise. I should not have reacted like that,” Castiel looked to the ground, blushing slightly. “I would very much like to… continue where we left off…” the angel looked into Dean’s eyes hopefully.

Dean smiled broadly. “Of course, Cas. Anytime.”

Dean stepped towards the angel, cupping his cheek and holding him spellbound by the first real kiss he had ever experienced. Cas fell into it, letting Dean hold him and feeling content beyond all belief. After what seemed like an eternity of this, they broke apart, both panting. "I absolutely hate human emotions," Castiel breathed. "So complicated."

Within minutes, the two were disheveled and mussed and were hard as rock when Dean decided he wanted more than kissing, even if it was damned passionate kissing. He shoved his angel into the tiny bedroom and directly onto the bed. Dean growled hungrily as he climbed atop Castiel, pushing him down into the mattress heavily with kisses and his hips. The angel involuntarily moaned, finding all these new sensations stimulating to say the very least.

The hunter’s hands were occupied heavily, one undressing Cas and the other running through the angel’s deep black hair. Castiel was occupied, as well, but his goals were less out of passion than of pure sexual drive. He had already torn off any sort of shirt Dean had been wearing, and was now shoving a hand into Dean’s pants to feel him while he was still hot and hard over the angel. The other hand was attempting to undo Dean’s trousers, which he found was awfully difficult as Dean was grinding his hips heavily into him.

Cas pushed Dean’s tongue from his mouth, breaking the kiss. “Something wrong?” Dean spoke into Cas’ skin, pressing kisses on the angel’s neck and jaw.

Castiel concentrated for a moment, letting his ‘angel mojo’ do its part as he stripped them both with his mind. Dean stopped a second as he felt their skin touching, their erections pressed into one another, how Cas felt for the first time. “Thought I’d make things simpler,” Castiel said, running his hand over Dean's chest. “Just you and me now.”

He pulled Dean closer for another kiss. Dean ground their hips together, moaning pleasurably, and Castiel gripped the sides of the bed, finding himself much in need of support of any kind. Soon Dean shouted the angel’s name, coming faster than he had expected, and leaned forward again, panting slightly. Cas was still hard, though he felt as if he would come soon, and Dean dismounted his angel, grabbing his cock roughly. The angel moaned, biting his lip as his hunter pumped, and yelled something in Enochian as he came.

Dean lay next to his panting angel, basking in the afterglow. A few minutes later he blindly reached for a bed sheet, finding one and pulling it over them, using it as an excuse to get close to Castiel and kiss him gently. Dean felt Cas cuddle up close to him after a while, and he fell asleep with his angel in his arms.

*

When Sam came back to the motel, no sound was to be heard. He knocked on the bedroom door, hoping to find Dean and tell him about the case he was going to be researching. The room was, unsurprisingly, unlocked, and Sam stepped in, quietly saying, “Dean? Are you in here? I wanted to tell y- oh, god,” Clothes were everywhere, bedsheets were on the floor, and the oldest Winchester was snuggled up happily with Castiel, asleep.

“Um… never mind,” Sam smiled, leaving the room in one big step backwards. As he shut the door and went into the kitchen, he muttered, “Finally. I knew it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first smut fic. I hope that you enjoyed, and carry on.


End file.
